


Loyal suffering

by IWillNeverBePerfect (wl_1704)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Daenerys (only mentioned), F/M, I was listening to sad music, but I can recommend "Remembrance" by Balmorhea, don't blame me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 18:09:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19183051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wl_1704/pseuds/IWillNeverBePerfect
Summary: This is a short oneshot without a happy ending, having been written in the middle of a stormy night.You are a young Lady, who has ended up following the Khaleesi, as she frees the slaves. Through her you met Ser Jorah Mormont - the man you eventually fell in love with.While talking to him, you are pondering about your feelings for him and his destiny.





	Loyal suffering

**Author's Note:**

> I can recommend listening to the song "Remembrance" by Balmorhea while reading this story, as I've written it with the help of this song.

I always saw him staring at her. Protecting her, advising her, being the calm in her storms and showing never ending loyalty towards her. Neither me nor the others had ever seen him waver when it came to our Khaleesi. It was truly admirable, but the price he paid for it seemed to be something that haunted him throughout his entire life.

Whenever he’d fallen in love, something terrible happened sooner or later – his first wife dying after ten years of marriage while giving birth to their child, his second wife using his vulnerability to drain him of all the money he’s ever had and thus making him sell slaves to let her maintain her lifestyle. And then there’s Daenerys. His newest love. But no better than anything that has ever happened to him before. He would give his life for her, but she sees him as a trusted friend, a part of the family, which she hasn’t got any more – the last Targaryen in all of Westeros and Essos – a lonely legacy, accompanied by her last three dragons.

It all sounded like heartbreak and hurt and it was nothing more and nothing less like that. But we all nonetheless fought for and with the Khaleesi – even myself, who didn’t want to follow any nobleman nor – woman anymore, but saw something greater in Daenerys, as long as Jorah was with her, to keep her sane and thoughtful.

“What are you going to do when she wants to kill their masters, Ser Jorah? Is it really, what should be done?”, I asked Jorah, while riding with him back to our Khaleesi after trying to find out what happened in the back of the smaller city, which we tried to capture in the morning.

He turned his head towards me and slowly shook his it. “I honestly don’t know. I will probably still try to talk her out of it. We can’t go on like that. Where blood is spilled, it will never go away. It'll stick to your hands and come back in the end – it always does.”

I sighed and rode ahead of him, tired of all these wise words being constantly exchanged. This was a war. Still a small one on our side, but it still was. And to talk about the deaths of men, who should never be forgiven for their mistakes and committed sins, wasn’t my fashion. At all.

“Are you not okay with my way of handling things, Lady (y/n)?” Jorah had caught up with me, while I was thinking about the situation at hand.

“Oh no, that’s not the problem. I understand where you’re coming from. And I know why you want them to suffer in another way. I want that too... An eye for an eye and the world turns blind. But can they really redeem themselves? Do they even understand their mistakes? They've grown up with this way of living – it has become a part of them.  _ They're not like you. _  You know where you come from. You realized your legacy – too late, but you still did. And you’re doing a great job at becoming a better person.” He was silent after my comment. Becoming anxious about him not answering me, I turned my head to look at him this time. Jorah stared at the ground – in shame, I realized.

But after a while, he sucked in a deep breath and answered me, now looking straight ahead. “I did, what I thought was right. I've loved my wife.”, he paused. “That’s why I wanted her to live the best life possible. No one knows, when this life will end, so we should use it as good, as we can. I regret my mistakes – every single day. And maybe these masters won’t feel as much of regret as I do, but at least you can make them suffer, without just leaving them to die. Because then you take away their chance of realizing their mistakes completely. That's just as bad, as what they did to all of these slaves...”

I nodded curtly and stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking about my next words. After choosing them carefully, I decided to be braver than before and tell him more honest about my thoughts and feelings on the matter.

“You have been punished enough by fate itself. Yes, you are still alive, but none of  this matters , if you constantly throw yourself away for people – with the false hope of getting back what you gave with all of  your  might.  _ Be kind to yourself. _  Once and for all.” With these last words we reached our destination – a little makeshift village made out of tents.

It was already evening when I saw Jorah again. We hadn’t talked all afternoon – partially, because I avoided meeting him. I was sure that he had caught on and knew, what I was really saying to him. That he shouldn’t stay here just because of his love for the Khaleesi and especially not to try and redeem himself that way. He was a great man, but none of that mattered upon knowing that he broke one of the most important laws of Westeros in the name of love. Maybe he could go back in some years, when none of the lords remembered his mistakes. Maybe, when the wars were over and some quite calmness would finally lay itself upon the entirety of Westeros and its citizens. Maybe just then. But in the meantime, I would feel for him and the intense pain he must endure – wanting to be loved back and finally wanting to go back home – the exact same things I wanted to do too, once all of this was over.

“May I come in, Lady (y/n)?” I startled upon hearing Jorah’s voice outside of my tent. I didn’t think that he would search for me. But the possibility, that the Khaleesi just wanted to talk to me and sent him to find me, was higher than my hope of him being interested in my person.

“Yes, you may come in, Ser Jorah.” With these words he entered my tent, looking around carefully, as he never went into it before. There wasn’t much to see anyways - I only had a few books lying around. Some were about politics, some about health and some about basic philosophic questions.

“I hope that I am not interrupting something important right ow.”, he said, while staring directly into my eyes.

I swallowed the forming lump in my throat and shook my head. “You’re never interrupting me. That's impossible, ser Jorah. But may I ask what you want from me? Is it about my comment, that I made this noon?”

He oved to sit down in front of me – between us a little wooden table. “Yes, Lady (y/n). I couldn't shake the feeling, that you are unhappy with my situation because of something more personal than just your concerns as a friend. What is really going on? I need to know, as we’re both going to work side by side for a long period of time. I don’t want things like this to make it uncomfortable or even unbearable for the both of us.”

My mind went black.  So  he really did catch on, just like I expected him to do. Always the smart man from Bear Island. Always doubtful and never trusting. But how could I tell him, that I loved him? Or should I keep quiet?

Moments of  quiescence  went by. They stretched into what felt like hours, until I decided to answer him – my decision eventually made. “You don’t have to worry at all. There is in no way a more personal reason than our friendship behind my words. I am simply concerned for your wellbeing. That is all. But I am glad that we can talk about such things so freely.”

He seemed to be suspicious about my answer,  but  decided not to dwell upon it and accept my final words.

“Very well, Lady (y/n). I shall see you at dinner.”

I nodded and he stood to leave the tent. Watching him leave hurt. It was the metaphor for my hopes and dreams being crushed. He does not love me back. I knew that for sure. But at least I had to somehow kepp a bond towards him to be at least a little bit of help when  it  came to his emotions, which he barely talked about – always resuming to be the bear he was destined to be.

“Oh, Ser Jorah Mormont, are you ever going to stop suffering?”, I whispered to myself.


End file.
